A Timeless Fate
by Luna rain18
Summary: Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Edward, Bella, and Etc  This is my first attempt to write a fanfic. This is about Bella moving in with her grandparents after an awful acident. I will try to update often; I hope you enjoy it! Everyone is sort of human.
1. Chapter 1

I walk gingerly to my grandfather's old beat up baby blue and rust coloured Ford truck. The truck like how I feel is rusty and grey. I don't think the old thing can move let alone take me from Canada to America where my grandparent's house is in the middle of nowhere. It has been eight weeks since my life has been thrown into chaos. Much like how a twister comes out of nowhere, my life just changed rapidly. The crash remains in my mind in a demanding sort of way. This memory craves my attention constantly; I beg my mind not to give it the satisfaction. All fails at the weak attempt. I wasn't there to witness the tragedy but I can remember every second from the time I found out, to the time my grandparents came here to take me away. I was told no one survived, but I've come to the conclusion that everyone is lying to me. Everything is all a joke or some sort of game, I just have to keep calm and advance through. Everything after that is sort of a haze and I've become auto-piloted, shaking my head up and down and side to side, to everyone's questions and condolences. I am rather sick of all the whispers and stares coming from everyone and everywhere. It is impossible for them to understand but they try and act like morons in the process.

The truck's air conditioner doesn't work, great just great. It is blazing outside and I have to sit here uncomfortable for at least a day and that's if we don't take any breaks. Not to mention that the truck doesn't smell exactly pleasant. There is a moth ball and old fast food smell to it. I clutch my old canvas knapsack, with its meagre belongings in it, as the truck jumps from the bumpy road. In it are An I-Pod to drown the loud engine and my grandfather's singing to the oldies on the radio, a neck pillow, several books, and a bottle of water. The rest of my stuff is in the tarp covered back of the truck. Or at least I think, the suitcases and boxes are there, they could have jumped out with all the bumps on this dirt road.

"Hey Izzy did you see that big Moose grazing over there," My grandfather takes his hands off the wheel and points both his hand towards a rather big moose. He then goes back to the silence, I enjoy. My name is Isabella but my grandfather won't stop with the "Izzy" thing. I don't think I really like being called Izzy; it seems too short and wrong rolling off the tongue. I glance at my grandfather quickly before he notices. My Father and grandfather look nothing alike; he must look more like grandma. It has only been what eight weeks and I can't even remember exactly how my father looked.

I'm not very close to my Father's parents but I remember we use to go there all the time and then for no reason at all we just stopped going there ten years ago and my mother's parents died long before I was born, so I never got the chance to meet them. Living with my dad's parents is going to be awkward more so for me than them. They are complete strangers to me, but anything is better than being sent to a foster home. Even if that means I have to leave this quiet little place called Saskatoon for a humongous city named Chicago.

I haven't cried yet. That I think would seem strange to most, even to me. I just don't know why I can't cry, it is like it everything is too much for me to even begin to break down and deal with. I stare out the old it's seen better day's truck window, nothing to look at but clouds and yellow stuff. The clouds are interesting though, many different colours. The ones though that I am most worried about are purple and black, like a rough black eye. Those clouds are quite intimidating; I hope a thunder-storm doesn't erupt.

"So, it has been a while since you have been down to Chicago Illinois." I turn to look in my grandfather's general direction.

"Yeah I guess it has," I say in a bored monotonous voice. I begin to bit my lip and twiddle my thumbs; I would give anything to not have to have this or any conversation. It is just too awkward talking to a man whom I am vaguely familiar with.

"A lot has changed since I last saw you," my grandfather says hopeful to continue to pry. I snort in response. I wish I could say "no shit Sherlock," it has been ten years what does he expect? I say nothing for a long period then I decide to just play dumb and see if I can figure out why we stopped visiting years ago.

"Yeah, how long has it been since I was in Chicago?"

"Um, I am not real sure Char but it is good that you going to be back." He is avoiding the answer. I don't know how to bring it up again without it seeming that I am fishing for something, so I go back to staring out the window. Nothing interesting to look at, a bunch of fields I am unfamiliar with and the occasional house that leans towards the ground. All these houses that are tilted like that, none of them have fallen or broken in half. I don't understand how something like that could continue to stand after all these years of neglect. We reach the border and the border police; I guess if that is what you want to call them. They think they need to search every ounce of my Grandfather's truck. We both are told to get out and they search every crack in the seats. He puts up a fight; I just stand there praying and lower my head in embarrassment. I hope he doesn't do something that would really get us in trouble. It is not like they will find anything, so why bother with the arguing. I walk to his side, with my arms crossed.

"Grandpa could you please stop arguing with the border patrol, it is not like you have anything to hide." I plead. I really don't care; I just don't need something worse to happen.

"I will not stop, no I won't. It is a thing of pride Izzy bean, just leave everything to me." I have a feeling that if everything was left up to him, he would be dead by now and now I have acquired a new nickname Izzy bean, I can only hope this one doesn't stick. He really just doesn't know when to give up; he is now taunting them as they search. He puffs out his chest and begins to wag his finger at them. He then goes on about when he was a boy they treated their elders with respect and how the world has changed.

"When I was a boy there were wars to fight and people didn't waste their time search cars and houses for nothing, they joined the army and made something of themselves. I remember that people actually cared about one another, now... now everything is always about silly things. I can't even buy a chocolate bar without there being some sort of hissy fit and that is not even just about the price 1.50 you have to be kidding me." I am not sure what chocolate has to do with anything but I want to drag him back to the side. I reframe from doing so because I am thinking that it may rile him up some more. He continues to go on.

"Just forget about your pride for an hour or two." I screech. This seems to get his attention, he then walks over to me silently and lets them care on with the search. Maybe it was his inner former cop self that felt the need to fight another cop. Or maybe he is really hiding something bad in the truck.

About half an hour later we are finally cleared to enter America. My eye lids weigh heavily, as I try to focus on the fields in front and all around me. I must have fallen asleep because when I wake up I am in an unfamiliar room and I can hear snoring close by. I sit up pull the covers away from me. I am sweating from the heat this room seems to cling to. I reach over and flip on a small light that sits right on the wall above the headboard of the bed and look around the room, my grandpa sleeps heavily on the next bed and a bathroom is just beyond his bed. I go into the bathroom and wash my face to find comfort in the heat. I look in the mirror, I don't see myself as how I remember, and something has clearly changed. I look haggard; do all people look like this when someone close to them dies. Can death really make the living look dead to someone? The light I turned on is suddenly out; great I mumble and stumble back to the bed, forgetting to change into my pyjamas. I don't think I could find them even if I wanted to. I flop into bed for another round of vivid and bizarre nightmares. A light shines brightly on my eyes. I roll over to avoid its glare.

"You need to get up if you want a shower, your grandmother expects us to be home by eight tonight," My grandfather says. I ignore him and roll over again, not caring so much about the suns glare. He pulls the light sheet from me. "I get you don't want to deal with anything, alright but you need to get up now take a shower get dressed eat some breakfast. We need to get a move on, ok," He says sternly. I comply and eat breakfast first then take a quick shower. When I get out of the bathroom grandpa is already at the door ready to leave. I put my clothes in my bag and put the bag back in the truck. I once again get in the old truck and we leave immediately. My grandfathers in quite a rush this morning, I think to myself. I don't think it is just my grandmother's expectance that is making him rush. Maybe I am just paranoid, or my grandfather is very anal about being somewhere on time. The smell is still there. It must be permanent in the fabric of the seats. I lean my head on my arm and stare out the window for what seems to be hours.

"We are almost there I can smell your Grandma's supper on the table!" My grandfather exclaims.

"Sounds great I am really looking forward to getting there I am quite exhausted." For once I feel I am being honestly and sincere to my Grandfather, since getting into this truck for the first time.

"Just wait until you see the bedroom your Grandma designed for you, I know you will just simply love it. You will even get your own bathroom."

"You guys didn't have to go to all that trouble; a plain white room is fine with me." I say leaning my arm against the window.

"Don't worry about it. It was nothing really, you grandma loves to design the house, so it was a personal joy for her." I don't remember grandma really liking to do anything except garden. She had this whole design and order to her yard. Every year I went there it was different and seemed to get grander. One year she had roses in the right corner, white and purple lilacs bordered the fence, along with some vines, tiger lilies, a whole bunch of wild flowers and an herb garden near the porch. The vines always reminded me of the movie the Secret Garden. I wonder what the garden looks like now. I hope the gazebo is still in the center of the garden. I see a sign that says "Welcome to Chicago, The Windy City." The population is 2.7 million people, that is beyond what I can imagine being big, I am from Saskatoon. I am pretty sure that whole province has less people than the whole city of Chicago.

I can't wait to just get out of this truck to stretch my legs, the right one keeps falling asleep. We pass many restaurants, big parks huge building, skyscrapers, and many different businesses. We drive a couple of miles outside of the city and I can see the house just as we drive to the top of the hill. It is hard to miss, it is so huge. It is a dark blue and white. It is a Victorian style home. There are three stories plus an attic and basement. I look to the second floor and I see a black shadow move the curtain slightly. I look with more attention to the window this time and nothing. I must be seeing things. I take in the rest of the exterior of the house. The ways the windows circle around make it seem like part of a castle. Parts of the black shingled roof are pointed. The house is breath taking and creepy at the same time. The flowers and vines all around it make it seem much older than it is and they also make it look hidden and secretive. I watch my Grandma come out of the heavy white French doors. She steps out on the deck and waves to us as we pull into the gravel just adjacent to the house.

I hop out of the truck and almost fall to the ground because my legs are so stiff. I grab my backpack. And go to grab my stuff from the back of the truck but grandpa insists on caring them in. I don't refuse when I realize that my arms are also very stiff for some reason. My whole body suddenly feels very heavy; My Grandma opens her arms as I walk up the steps to the wrap around deck. She comes and gives me a great big bear hug. I didn't realize she was a huggy type of person. I hug her back rather awkwardly.

"Hey Grandma," I say as I pull away from the hug. She grabs my shoulders.

"Well my, haven't you grown up, just look at her Wes. Oh look what have I done." She grabs a towel that hangs out of a pocket in her apron and dusts me off. "I have gotten flour all over you my dear."

"It's nothing really Grandma," I brush the remaining flour from my shirt.

"Please just call me Claire and call your grandpa Wes. Anyway let's get inside it looks like there is another storm approaching."

I step through the doors and I am immediately hit with a smell of fresh bread and several other baking smells. I guess grandma; I mean Claire, I don`t think calling her Claire is such a good idea. It seems so wrong to me like calling a teacher by their first name wrong, must have been baking all morning. Grandpa directs me to the stairs; we climb the elegant freshly polished stairs. I know they are freshly polished because I can practically taste the lemon smell coming off the wood. We turn right and there through the first door. My first impression of the room is to run and hide. Everything and I mean everything is a shade of pink that would make Barbie squeal with delight, and me on the other hand, well I won't be squealing, jumping up for joy, or screaming with a high pitched "OMG IT IS SO LIKE PINK?" I will be tolerating it and appreciating the thought and effort my grandma... I mean Claire put into it but everyday peeling a little bit of the froufrou wallpaper off until it is a little less pink.

"You don't like it do you?" He says as he comes up behind me.

"It is um, well different than any other room I have ever had." I reply. This is true; I have never seen such a sight in my life or even thought about having a room like this.

"Don't worry, we can change it, to whatever color you would most enjoy." My grandpa smiles as he says this. He brings the suit cases in and places them on the huge bed. That isn't the only thing that is huge, the whole room is enormous. I don't know where to begin, I hop onto the bed to test it out, and it is quite comfortable. My grandpa points to the door to my left and tells me that is the closet. Then he points the other door to the far right and tells me that it is my own personal bathroom. He then leaves but not before telling me to get ready for supper.

I lie in the bed taking it all in for a moment. My eyes analyze the room and I can't stop think that something is wrong with the vanity table; it seems odd, like it is hiding something behind it. I get up from the bed to pull out the vanity table a bit to see if something is behind it. Before I can pull it out enough to get behind it, Claire calls me to supper. I have a hard time tearing myself from what I was doing but the smell of supper brings me downstairs. I think Claire must have cooked everything but the kitchen sink, because there is everything from chicken to cabbage rolls. Claire notices my expression.

"I don't remember what you liked so I cooked a little of everything," she exclaims.

"You guys didn't have to go to all this trouble I am not a picky eater," I say.

"It was nothing really, now come on and sit down. There is a special desert after." I pick a seat from the round heavy wood table. I can see the sitting room from my chair, there is a beautiful old grandfather clock. It chimes loudly eight times as I begin to eat my food. We have pumpkin pie for desert; it is my absolute favourite flavour of pie known to man-kind. I have never ever had pumpkin pie in the middle of July, very special indeed. I yawn profusely after desert. I get up from my chair and begin to help Claire clear the dishes. "You don't have to help me dear."

"Are you sure, it is no problem."

"I am sure, go on now," she insists.

"I think I am going to head to bed early it has been a long day. See you guys in the morning, thank you for the supper." I say as I head up the stairs. I almost lose my way navigating to my room from the stairs. I walk straight for the vanity again. It is back up against the wall, which is not how I left it. Maybe Grandpa Wes moved it back. He did go up-stairs during supper. Anyway I am not in the mood to check it out now. I unpack my clothes and put them in the walk-in closet. I take a shower and change into my pyjamas and head to bed. This room is unfamiliar so I can't exactly sleep. I lay and toss and turn trying to find a comfortable spot. Maybe I wasn't as tired as I thought or maybe it is the fact that it is a bed, I bet if I went to a couch I would fall asleep instantly.

I give up and turn on the lamp sitting next to the bed and read a book. Every couple of sentences of the book I look up towards the vanity again. What is with it? I just can't stop being bothered by it. It is just a black wooden desk with a stupid mirror on it. Why is it that I can't stop thinking about pulling it out away from the wall? I slam the book shut when I realize reading it would be a waste, since I can seem to comprehend what it is that is going on in the book. No thanks to the fact that I am extremely distracted. Maybe the internet will hold my attention for a while

I quickly log into Facebook, to check in with my friends back home. No one is online; I guess the time difference is to blame for that though. I quickly write a status, log off and check my emails. Nothing important just junk about Viagra, dating sites, schools I don`t and never have wanted to attend, and one email from one of my closer friends Emelyne. She tells me how much she misses me and then rambles on for ten paragraphs, if you can call them that about her boyfriend Eric. I skip most of what she mentions about Eric, I have never liked the guy he seems slimy. Emelyne seems to be having a great summer, from what I can tell. I write a short and sweet response to her lengthy email.

I tell her I miss her even though I am not sure it is true; Emelyne was a friend that was also a handful at the same time. Blonde, tan, tall, blue eyed and pin thin, I on the other hand am shorter, have wavy black hair, really white skin, hazel eyes that can't decide on a colour and I am average weight. I was never jealous of her, I just didn`t like dealing with all the drama she surrounded herself with. She always had a new boyfriend every month; we seemed to be complete opposites. I don`t even know why we are friends. I guess I just like the fact that she is generally nice to most people. She torments this one girl though. Alison was here name I believe. I never stuck around when Emelyne became a catty person; it is not something I wanted to be a part of. I finish the email and try to get some sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I awaken in the morning to a rooster, could this be anymore cliché. I feel like I am in some corny flick about an old creepy farm. I thought this was supposed to be big city life. I guess we live far enough outside of Chicago that roosters can be loud enough to wake me but I didn't get the memo that we would actually be living outside of Chicago and closer to a small town than to the city. I don't remember them living so far away from the city either. The city I was living in before was bigger than that town a couple of miles down the road. I open the curtains the sun sits rather high; I must have slept in longer than I should have. I quickly brush my teeth and hair and change into jeans and a plain t-shirt. I head downstairs to the kitchen to look for some food. I find pop tarts in the cupboard and grab a pack.

"You have good sleep last night?" Wes says. I scream turn around and the pop tarts go flying in the air and hit the floor with a dull smack. "You alright, I didn't mean to scare you Izzy." I catch my breath and retrieve the pop-tarts.

"I am fine, I am just not use to people being home, or making such little noise when they walk into a room." I begin to laugh uncontrollably. "Wes could you just please just call me Bella." Wes gives me a confused look and fills his cup up with what must be a refill of coffee. I sit at the breakfast table and begin to eat my food. Wes follows and sits down. He then takes a sip of the coffee, examines the cup as if it doesn't exactly taste the way he thought it would before he poured it. He sets the cup down; I look away at the collection of chickens sitting on a shelf above one of the cupboards. I turn back to Wes, who is looks hesitant at me. He takes another quick sip of the coffee and once again puts the cup down. "Where is Grand..., I mean Claire?"

"She went to help plan an event in Forks." I nod in agreement, like I completely understand exactly what she is doing.

"I didn't realize that you guys lived so far away from Chicago." I say as I take another bite from my pop-tart.

"Really, well we have lived here forever, I hope it didn't get your hopes up that you would be living one of the biggest cities in America."

"So I am gathering that I will not be attending a school in Chicago?"

"No, no Chicago is much too big for you and Forks is closer to the house anyway." I try and hide my disappointment; I think being able to go school in a big city would have been a great distraction. Now I am stuck in an even smaller town.

"Izzy... I mean Bella, do you want go to Forks to help me get some groceries. Maybe some paint to get rid of the pink." He winks. I am confused by his hesitation over something so simple like going shopping but I quickly discard that thought.

"Sure gramps. When are we going?" I say. He smiles at my answer and replies, in a couple of hours. I go back upstairs to check my email.

I walk in the pink room, making a sound somewhere between an animal groan and a regular teenage girl whine. I head to the desk where I left my laptop. I turn the relatively new laptop on and wait. I lean back in my chair and day dream. That eventually turns into think about that night; everything always turns back to my dead family. I don't think I will ever be able to get over that. My mind is stuck in the time loop. I can picture the sleek black car driving and a semi truck comes out of nowhere and smashes it to bits, with pieces of my family scattered about. I open my eyes to a darker room. I look over to the window slightly dazed and confused. Clouds now cover the sky that was completely clear fifteen minutes ago. Land of the living skies, huh? More like freaky skies. I return to the laptop and type in my password. I look over to the Vanity table again. There is a brush on my vanity; I don't remember leaving that there when I brushed my hair earlier. I ignore it and open my email. Nothing from her yet, good I don't think I would have anything to say. It is quite calm here compared to Saskatoon, which is about it. I do a quick check on face book, Emelyne is online. She begins to chat with me before even look though the news feed.

"Oh my gosh, hey Bella. It feels like forever since we chatted. I can't believe you are gone. So what's it like there?" I wish she would just say one thing at time instead of twenty but that is just who she is, a bubbly person.

"It is quiet here and oddly normal." I chat slowly trying to come with an answer that won't get a million more questions.

"Sooo, how are you coping?" She chats this in a way that makes it seem rather annoyed with that fact that I am grieving my family's death. I can't say for sure though because it is only typed but there is two, too many "o's" in it so. I decide to take it as a concerned gesture.

"I think it is getting better, grandma who incites that I call her Claire, thinks the air will do me good. I am not so sure about that, I miss Canada. The most I have seen all day is nothing. ;P." I then tell her that I am not actually living in the city and that my grandparents are not letting me in Chicago anytime soon. "I will have to sort of have to live in a town called Forks, sort of have to because I don't live in any town because we live in the middle of nowhere.

"Omg, The horror of that is there even a place to go shopping in Forks? I'll bet there isn't I think you just might die. Omg, what will I do if you don't like come back here, *biting my nails madly*. I am madly serious; I should plead with my parents so that you can stay here now, since you are not sad and depressed all the time anymore."

"I was just joking Em, I do like this place, I have been here before. Granted it was a long time ago and I don't remember anything but I don't think I will die if I can't go shopping.

"Chuh, I knew that." I think I better end this conversation before she goes completely bananas.

"Em, I got to go grocery shopping with Wes, so I'll talk to you later." I close the page in a hurry and try to forget that the strange conversation ever happened. I feel bad lying to her but I just can't stand the way she acts sometimes. Wes isn't going shopping for a couple more hours; I guess I could watch TV. I am not a big fan of anything that is on these days. Crap and more with the occasional show that I love to death like V and The Event, that ends up getting cancelled. What is wrong with alien shows, I think they are much better than the stupid doctor, police and lawyer shows on. I turn the TV on and it just so happens to be on MTV, you can guess what is on. Jersey Shore, the most disturbing show on the planet, they get paid to get drunk? I am not even going to go into that fact that millions of people around the world strain every day for basic needs. Uck, I flip the channel to avoid the temptation to throw the remote at the screen. I flip the channel until I get to the food network, I love to cook, but mostly bake. There is just something soothing about baking or cooking. But even watching my favourite channel doesn't help that distracted feeling I always have when I am in this room. It is that god damn vanity again, I think I should just have Wes throw it out or put it somewhere else in the house.

I shut the TV off and walk over to it again; mildly curious to why it irks me. I run my index finger along the edges of the table potion of the vanity; it feels smooth like glass to the touch. I move the chair to the other side of the room and walk back over to the table to begin pulling it all the way out. It is quite heavy, even more than I estimated. I manage to pull it out a foot. There is nothing behind it, just as I thought. I sigh in defeat, I must be imagining things. I am just about to push the vanity back when a shadow catches my eyes to the right of me. I turn around quickly, there is nothing there but the window is open and a large breeze is blowing the heavy cream drapes high in the air. I thought I closed the window, maybe not though; it was kind of stuffy in here earlier. I go back to the vanity and when I try to push it back I find a bulge in the wallpaper I hadn't seen earlier. I reach my hand out to touch it; unfortunately I can't quite reach it. I try squeezing myself even further; damn I still can't reach it.

"What are you doing Izzy?"

"Ahhh, ouch, dammit." I bang my head on the corner of the table. I rub the tender spot on my head and he has started with the "Izzy" thing again. "That is twice in one day are you trying to give me a heart-attack Wes." Wes seems taken back by my reaction.

"I knocked." he says.

"Oh, I didn't hear anything." I walk over to the other side of the vanity to check the bump on my head in the mirror. Wes crosses his arms and walks towards me.

"So, what were you doing with the table?" He says in a half sympathetic, half snickering tone. I turn back to face him.

"Haha, nothing really I was just moving it. I think it is in a weird place." I think lying is the best idea right now; I don't need him to think I am crazy too.

"Oh, where do you want it moved? I can move it for you if you would like."He says eyeing the table and scratching his head.

"You know what I think it is fine where it is or maybe, um could you move it to a different room. That table bugs me with the mirror at night"

"You afraid the creepy dark demons, that come in the dead of night to steal beautiful girl's souls." He chuckles. He takes all of the stuff out of the drawers and places them on the desk. We then move the vanity to the room right across from mine. He tells me to get a rain jacket, and shoes and then to meet him downstairs to go shopping. I walk briskly to my room and into the closet to grab my blue waterproof jacket, and my old beat up sneakers. I sit on the bed and tie my shoes up; I take a quick glance at the now empty space where the vanity sat. I can't believe it, the bulge it is completely gone. I walk towards the wall. I run my hand along where it was and it is completely smooth. What the hell. My grandpa begins hollering so I throw my jacket on and head down the stairs.

We drive for about five minutes to get to Forks and every time we pass a person they glance and wave our way. My grandpa waves back and I sit lower in the seat. I oddly feel embarrassed by this attention everyone is giving us. We finally reach the store, as soon as I get out of the truck a man and a woman about the same age as my grandparents approaches us. The woman begins to go on about some problem she is having, I stand there watching dirt turn up in the wind, swirling around. When the woman is done talking about her grand children she hugs me real tight and walks to her car in the parking lot. Wes and I get to the shopping part. The store is kind of strangely organized, maybe it is just me. I seem to think a lot of places are organized backwards to how I would organize them. Being left handed makes me weird I guess. We fill the cart with various items, pay for them and put them in the back of the truck carefully. More people wave at me, my cheeks burn crimson.

"The people around here are nice, eh." Wes says. What is with the "Eh" at the end of Wes' sentences? He is not Canadian and we do not even say that.

"Yeah, very nice," I reply solemnly.

"How about we go get some new paint?"

"The room is fine for now; I don't want to be a bother." I retort. We pass the one and only school, it looks ghostly in the middle of summer and unfortunately my future is in that ghostly place, two more weeks until school starts.

"Alrighty then suit yourself." That ends the chit-chat for the rest of the ride home. I quickly exit the truck, grab a couple of the bags and head to the kitchen where grandma is preparing lunch. I begin unpacking groceries, while Claire makes small talk. She goes on about something she is planning with a committee, something about a fall festival coming up in a month. I wasn't paying close attention. She then ushers me to the dining table for lunch. Lunch is mainly quiet, idle conversations between mostly Wes and Claire. I only join in occasionally to be polite. I don't really understand most of what they are talking about, like when Claire mentioned that Elizabeth's son Emmett was going to be in charge of decorations because he got into trouble. Claire seems angry that Emmett is in charge of decoration because she said that the whole thing would be ruined. I don't know who Emmett is but he sounds like trouble. Maybe that could be a good thing. After all it is just a fall festival, it will happen next year and the year after that. Claire can make it better next year.

I excuse myself from lunch and head up to my room to bore myself some more. I flop down on the bed. I feel really drained from today's excursions. I grab my I-pod off the desk where my laptop sits and go lay on the bed to listen to music. I dig my hands into the soft sensual satin covered pillow. I try to bury me face deep in the pillow to take a small nap. I drift into semi sleeping state I imagine how this Emmett person my grandma was talking about would ruin the fall festival. If I ever meet him I would like to high five him for his efforts. Odd small town festivals are lame in my book; they are really more just for the little kids. Teenagers really don't have a place in this kind of world. We end up bored out of our minds at these things because we can't do the adult stuff like drink and party but we also don't want to go get our face painted or collect candy being tossed out as a parade marches on.

A loud pulsing bang startles me awake me from my half sleep. I rip the ear buds out of my ears and lift my head slowly, groggy from laying there too long. Nothing is there when I look over to the window where sound sounded like it was coming from. It couldn't have been the window this time because it is shut, I think to myself. I walk over to the window and open it. I look over to my alarm clock, it is almost six o'clock. I should head down stairs to help Claire with supper; I stretch my arms and crack my knuckles. I turn towards the door when I see it. I gasp and clamp my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming, my eyes widen in horror. I run over to it. Ho.. how did this get back into the room, I hold my hands on top of my head. The vanity is back right where it was before Wes moved it. I apprehensively lower my hands, now shaking profusely. I touch the mirror to make sure I am not just seeing this piece of furniture. I touch it and nothing happens. It is just like when I had it in here previously. I think back to last time I pulled it out and I crouch down in beside it. I can't see anything, it is too dark.

I get up on my knees and look around for something. I see my iPod sitting on the bed, so I walk on my knees over to grab it and scurry back to the vanity. I quickly change my setting on my iPod to the brightest it will go and shine it on the crack between the vanity and the wall. Sure enough that bulge is magically back on the wallpaper. I drop the iPod in response. I breathe deeply in and out to keep from completely screaming out. There has to be a logical explanation. Maybe Claire asked Wes to move it back when I was napping and the bulge is there because the vanity screws the lighting up. Yes, that is possible explanation, well not really but it is all I can come up with. I can't not tell anyone, they might think I am going crazy, I have had issues with depression in the past. I don't need to people thinking I am going off the deep end again. I force myself to get up, when I hear Claire calling for supper. I look at the clock before I leave the room it is six thirty, how could that much time have gone by already.

I shut the door behind me; it makes grating sound as it clicks shut. I don't need anyone else to see this too, I think to myself. I hustle down the stairs and head to the kitchen for what I know will be another awkward supper. I take my place and just as I predicted Wes begins to ramble on about something. Claire then begins talking about the fall festival again. She begins debating on the proper fall colours. She then asks Wes which shade of orange best represents fall as a whole. She then drops her knife in mid cut of the chicken. It makes an excessive loud clank when it hits the plate. A look of excitement crosses her face as she looks at me. I put my fork down on my plate. I don't know if I should be scared of Claire or not right now.

"I just had the most amazing idea, this festival is not going to decorate itself and Emmett well he, I guarantee you will not do a good job." Claire waves her fork as she speaks. "I was just thinking that you could help out Isabella. I know you would have good taste and you could make sure that Emmett kid does what he is suppose to. I know you must be bored stiff here all day, so would you like to help?" I ponder the idea for a minute, I could go out and help or I can stay in this house with the freaky possible self moving vanity. I think getting out will do me some good and give me a chance to meet some new people. How bad can decorating be?

"Sure Claire, I would love to help out." Claire grins from ear to ear and begins to collect the dinner dishes. I sit in my chair for a while, too scared to go back into my room. I look over to the sitting room where the grandfather clock sits and watch the pendulum swing back and forth. It reminds me of this physics experiment we did once. I don't remember the exact assignment, all I remember is that we had to put these washers on a string and swing it back and forth for some reason. I also remember that my lab partner was a know-it-all jerk. The dude did know some stuff but he was mostly talk.

"Bella would you like to play poker in the sitting room?" I have nothing better to do and I would love to learn to play, I have never played before.

"Sure Wes." Wes shows me different kinds of hands and what each means. I think I am beginning to grasp the basic concept of poker. We begin to play a real game of poker. I get a really good hand off the bat and win. "Beginners luck huh?" He chuckles.

"I guess it is, let's continue." We continue to play for two hours; the first hand is pretty much the only one I won. I place the cards back in a deck and hand it to Wes.

"I don't think gambling is your thing, I would avoid it at all costs if I was you. Especially if it is strip or it involves real money." He pokes me and laughs when I walk past him to go upstairs.

"It was the only the first time I have ever played poker and I would never ever play strip poker." I reply embarrassed as I step on the first step on the stair case.

"What's wrong with strip poker, it is fun if you know what you're doing ha right Claire." He calls to Claire from across the room. Yuck that mental image was not needed in my head tonight or anytime at all ever. I sigh in disgust and head up the stairs towards my room. I turn the door knob slowly; it squeaks and moans from age. The door thrusts open even though I barely move it an inch. It entices me in. I feel doomed, like I could be possibly trapped in here forever if I choose to close the door behind me when I enter. But at the same time I feel upset when I leave, as if this room needs me to comfort it like a small child who has been injured. I don't know what to make of these bipolar emotions, this room makes me feel. Maybe it is one of my family members trying to contact me. I wouldn't mind that so much then I could tell my mom, dad, or brother that I love and miss them. I decide forget these thoughts and change into my pyjamas and head to bed.

I awaken to a bitter cold wind in the middle of the night, in summer? I tighting my grip on the blanket to keep me warm. Nothing works so I decide get up and close the window. I see a man or what appears to be a man as I sit up. He stands at the edge or my bed. The clothes he sports are something else completely; I would say rather late Victorian style of clothing. He stares intently at me; he looks upset with me though. I stare in shock but unable to move or scream for someone to help me. Tears begin to drip slowly down his face, but he continues to stare or should I say holds his eyes into mine. The eyes are something I will never forget, they are the most brilliant shade of green I have ever seen. It is like looking into a sea that is covered with fog and in the fog are emeralds. He lifts his arm and holds his hand out to me. I sit cross legged blanket covering me with my mouth hanging open and eyes wide as an owl. Then out of nowhere a piercing scream burns my ears. The man turns at a freighting pace and disappears as he touches the mirror on the vanity.

After a while I realize I am able to move, my first response it to head to the door but I trip over my blanket towards the vanity. I can't walk anywhere except towards the vanity. I touch the mirror and it gives under the pressure of my fingers. There is a ripple when I press my entire hand on the mirror. I jolt my hand back in response. It reminds me of a river on a windy day. Mirrors are not supposed to do that, I think to myself. A girl who looks nothing like me appears in the mirror, I jump back. She stays still, a look of menace and what appears to be a grin on her face, returns my stare. Her wild perfectly straightened blond hair moves with a non-existent wind. I scream and run to the door, I feel a splitting pain as I try to run to the door. The next thing I know I hear the door opening and the lights flick on. I cringe as the brightness scratches my eyes. I hear Claire scream and Wes telling her to call 911. I try to lift my hand to my head to where I feel like a bucket of water has been poured on me; Wes swats it away and attempts to pick me up.


	3. Chapter 3

"Of course, it is quite possible to be in the dark in the dark, but there are so many secrets in the world that it is likely that you are always in the dark about one thing or another, whether you are in the dark in the dark or in the dark not in the dark, although the sun can go down so quickly that you may be in the in the dark about being in the dark, only to look around and find yourself no longer in the dark about being in the dark, but in the dark in the dark nontheless, not only because of the dark, but because of the ballerinas in the dark, who are not in the dark about the dark, but also not in the dark about the locked cabinet, and you may be in the dark about the ballerinas digging up the locked cabinet in the dark, even though you are no longer in the dark about being in the dark, and so you are in fact in the dark about being in the dark, even though you are not in the dark about being in the dark, and so you may fall into the hole that the ballerinas have dug, which is dark, in the dark, and in the park. "  
>―<em>Lemony Snicket<em>_, __The End_

I hope you are enjoying the story so far; I know the updates have been erratic. I have finals coming up and I will shoot for at least once every other week, but I am not promising anything. Once finals are over I will be updating a week, granted writers block doesn't swing my way. If you have any suggestions, comments, questions or criticisms feel free to review or message me.

Chapter 3 Mirror Mirror on the wall I've clearly lost my sanity and I am about to lose it all

When I open my eyes again, I am in a sanitary cold hospital room. Claire, looking distraught hovers over the bed. I give her a look of confusion as her expression turns into relief. The door clicks open and Wes walks in and stands beside Claire.

"Thank god you're ok; Wes and I were really scared. There was so much blood." I really don't have any idea of what she is referring to. I just nod in agreement. "What on earth were you doing?" I contemplate telling Claire what I saw and just getting it over with but I can't tell anyone, no one will believe me. I need to think of an explanation and I need to think of one fast. I don't even really remember; what I did to hurt myself.

"I guess I must have sleep-walked off the bed and tripped. I use to have nightmares and do this when I was a kid." That half lie should do, for now. I laugh a little to relieve the heavy tension in the room. Wes chuckles lowly too. He pokes and teases me about being such a scaredy cat. Claire smiles tensely. I don't think she is buying what I am selling.

An old angry balding man in a white coat enters the room. He looks at me and then looks back at the folder he holds. The tension instils itself back in the room.

"I heard you took quite a tumble early this morning, how's your head feeling." He says this in what I have interpreted to be an annoyed tone. I can't be sure though. He then glances at the folder. "Izzzebelllaaaa, right? He butchers my name; I didn't realize that my name was so complex. I would understand if he had an accent but he has said everything else normally. "I think we will discharge you now. Your head seems to be fine but if you get dizzy in the next few days feel free to call so we can check it out." He leaves as soon as Wes signs the papers. Claire gives me a bag and directs me to the bathroom to change. I don't recognize the clothes in the bag. They are way to girly for my tastes and predictably pink. What is with Claire and the colour pink? Am I the test subject of what Claire would have done if she had a daughter? Ah, whatever it is just a colour, it can't hurt me unless it could. There goes my non-existent reputation. Down the sewer it goes.

As soon as we get home Claire makes me sit at the kitchen table as she makes a huge breakfast or lunch, I am not sure what time it is. I try and eat as much as I can but she just keeps putting more on my plate. I tell her about three different times that I am not hungry but she never believes me and tells me that I need to "put some meat on my bones" I tell her that I will possibly throw-up if eat anymore. She sighs and lets me leave the table. I once again try and offer to help do the dishes but Claire insists that she doesn't need help. "Ornery old woman," I mutter to myself. I head to the living room and plop down on the recliner. I reach for the remote and flip through the channels, nothing much on at this time. I could watch childish cartoons, woman talking over one-another in an inaudible fashion, or the best show ever The Maury Show. This show is so repetitive and stupid but there is nothing on so I just leave it on there and vaguely pay attention. Another fourteen year old girl wants to have a baby, shocker. This show has gotten much more idiotic since the last time I had watch it because there were no other real TV options.

Once that show ends another equally trashy show begins, same problems different host to show people publicly displaying how low one is willing to go to get a spot on TV. It is so boring down here. Every minute feels like eternity, in a sense. I gaze at all the photos hanging on the walls. There is at least one of every family member; there are also some I do not recognize. I make a mental thought to ask Claire or Wes about the photos some other time.

I change my mind several times before I finally decide to go up to my room. I can't keep the lie up if I seem scared to go in my room. The room is absolutely spotless; there isn't even a trace of what happened last night left. I feel better about the room though. Something just feels okay with it now. I walk over to my desk and boot up my laptop, I log on and check my emails. I got another Facebook message from Emelyne. I head on over to Facebook. The new message, a couple of game requests, and two new friend requests await my presence. I check out the friend requests first. The first is from a guy named Emmett. I wonder if it is the same Emmett Claire was talking about. I accept the request and sure enough it is him. His profile picture is of him lifting up a big hunk of wood and grinning proudly about it. The picture is kind of funny. I check out the rest of his profile, nothing strange or special about his likes or dislikes. I wonder why he added me or even knew who I was. I haven't even updated my info about living here in the sticks. There must be more than one person with the same name as me. Who am I kidding though; people around here seem to know me before I have even introduced myself. I exit from his page and go and look at who the other friend request is.

It cannot be I take a double look. The friend request is from the guy I saw last night, this is impossible. What I saw last night was all in my imagination. It was not real. This Edward Masen cannot be the same person. The eyes in the profile picture do not lie but real people do not go through mirrors. This guy whom I have never met but somehow knew my name and added me, I drag my now shaky sweaty to the mouse and then to the button that will decline the invitation. I immediately look over the vanity expecting something crazy to happen again, nothing but a small bird chirping in the distance. I stare at the screen convinced that it will pop up again. I then eventually open up the message from Emelyne.

This message she sent me is in a frantic state. The words are all capitalized at the beginning of it and there are a lot of errors in it. Both of which suggest she was not in the mood to take the time to spell check or put in punctuation. It looks like her boyfriend broke up with her. I lean my right arm on the desk and lean my head upon my hand. I take a minute to think how to respond, to her lengthy rant, about how much she gave up to be with him and all the things she has done for him. I need to write a decent amount back or it will seem that I am being insensitive. What I really want to put is something more along the lines of you're seventeen what do you or I for that matter know about love. I end up writing a length paragraph of how I understand how she feels and there are many people in the world that world that would be better suited for her.

I cannot begin to understand what it feels like to be dumped I have never even been on a real date before. Socializing has never been my strong suite, in fact I feel that I much rather not bother with the complications that come with it.

I send the message and then click to play Bejewelled. This game is a beautiful invention. Not only does it kill time, it soothes me. There is just something about connecting colourful geometric shapes together and watching them explode, that makes me feel instantly refreshed. My Facebook page keeps bleeping at me while I am playing. I am pretty sure I clicked appear offline so I would not have to listen to the break-up story. I give up; my score isn't real good right now. I click on the blinking chat box and take a look at all the messages. I type hey and hit enter. She immediately responds with a where you were in bold capital letters.

"Very motherly of you, I was in the middle of a game. What's up, I got your message about the break up. What happened?" I reply knowing that is all what she wants from me. About ten minutes later I get a response from her.

"OMG, so you know who Jessica is, she is claiming that she is pregnant by Eric and now he is back with her again. I know she slept with like a billion more guys then just him, that funking man stealer. I should just push her down a flight of stairs. Eric was everything to me; I really thought he was the one. The ways he would open doors and let me wear his Team jacket! To make matters worse, she is only three months along so that would mean that he slept with her while WE WERE STILL TOGTHER! I don't know who she thinks she is but I am telling you Bells, she is going to get the stink eye from me for the rest of her life. I will make the whole school despise her. I can't believe that she would take advantage of Eric like that. Once they get the paternity results back he will come back to me." I take all of this crazy rant in and well I burst out laughing, Emelyne is beginning to sound like a nut case. I reply back after catching my breath from laughing so hard.

"I am not sure which Jessica you mean there are about 50 of them in that school and at least he is taking care of his responsibilities, even if he hurt you, you have to admire that." After I type this I instantly regret it. I know Emelyne too well and she will not see it from this point of view. I can feel her strangling me through the computer screen as I read what pops up.

"WHAT THE FUCK Bella, you are such a bitch. How can spew a defence for that moron, you are supposed to be my friend. You know what you can just go and jump off a cliff and die. I want nothing to do with you. You have changed since that stupid accident, why can't you just get over what happened, God, goodbye and FUCK YOU!" She signs off before I can reply. I don't know how to feel. I am angry but I can't help to feel devastated, maybe I crossed a line. I wish I could just start my life over again and magically become less socially awkward. I debate searching for him, something about him I just can't get out of my head. I need to know who he is and what is going on. After a long argument with myself I search Facebook for Edward Masen, just out of curiosity. Nothing shows up at all, what is going on he just friend requested me an hour ago. Maybe I am going insane and conjuring up crazy illusions. I close my laptop in frustration. I stray over to my bed and lay down. Tears stream down my face uncontrollable; I clutch my pillow so no one can hear my soft sobs escaping. I feel like I need to talk to him, like he would be the only one understand. He isn't real I reiterate in my head and punch my pillow. Oh how I wish he was real.

Being friendless is a world best left to people who can ideally make a new one quickly. Those left unable to will quickly become lonely. A lonely world is where I am, it is quiet here, I can try to make the best of things but it is no use. As much as I have said I hated her, she is the only one who didn't leave me alone when I was hurting. But now there is no one. I lay on my back on the bed staring at the canopy above me. I think it would be considered a rose coloured pink but what do I know about the colour pink. I rip part of the cloth hang down on the posts. An urgent knock startles me up from the bed. I open the door as another knock comes down.

"Charlotte I just wanted to see if you wanted to come down to supper now?" She looks at me with such a motherly concern.

"Sure I could use some food; it has been a long day." I reply. I follow her down the stairs and into the kitchen. I grab the bowl next to the one she grabs and follow her. We sit down in silence no sounds but the clanking of forks and knifes. Claire keeps looking at me as I eat my food. She finally puts her knife and fork down. I hope she isn't going to question me. I also put my knife down in anticipation of what is to come next.

"There is another planning meeting for the fall Festival, I was wondering if you would come with me tomorrow?" Claire's face brightens as she says this.

"Sure I would love to get out of the house and see Forks." I reply happily.

"Good, good, I need someone to keep Emmett from destroying everything; I swear that kid is massive. He can't even touch a nice decoration without wreaking it."

"I am sure he is not that destructive Claire."

"Oh, you have not seen what things that reckless hooligan has down to the town. Him and his friends, they all need a good kick in the ass. Pardon my swearing Isabella, you get my point though." She looks at me and I know can tell exactly what she is thinking, stay the heck away from them at all costs or else. I got that exact look from my dad once. I finish my supper and take my dishes into the kitchen. I hop into bed and for once I get a goodnight's sleep.

Carlisle will be in the story eventually as will majority of the others, I am think awesome guidance counsellor to the rescue.


	4. Chapter 4

**AU Note: this begins back before and after Bella first moved in and saw Edward or as I like to refer to him as Ghostward but this is entirely in Edward's Pov. I feel bad that I have neglected him his chance to be full front and center in the story. So in a way this is like two chapters because this also goes back to Bella and the next day where she meets the hooligan Emmett.**

Chapter 4 Past, Present, Future

_Counting the days to meet you on the other side_

_I will always be waiting_

_until the day that I see you on the other side_

_Come and take me home -Evanescence_

Edward's POV

Why have I awaken in this house again, I thought that maybe just maybe I had finally crossed over. Another day in this state of nonexistence, I for one am thoroughly sick of it. My old bedroom is being disgraced right now. The flamboyant worn woman is painting it pink. Why on earth is she painting it such a color, I also noticed practically every piece of furniture has been replaced with pink things, everything except the vanity, or the portal as I call it. No matter what the vanity stays there, it was my former fiancé' Tanya's and for some reason it is stuck here along with her and myself.

That day I remember it so clearly, she shoved me down two flights of stairs tripping with me as she pushed her hardest. We both died because of it, because I had called off the engagement. I found out later that, I wasn't her only victim. She had killed my reason for my former existence, the very thing I wanted to keep out of it. Isabella, she didn't disserve such a cruel fate. Selfishly though I wish she was here with me. But I am left with my still bitter ex-fiancé. We have to relive our deaths over and over again. None of the tenants have ever noticed us until about seventeen years ago. A little girl saw us both, she reminded me of someone but I could not put my finger on it and she was gone when I was able to reappear again. She was there every year for eight years around summer time for a couple of weeks. I became strangely protective of her but I could not let her see me. But I need to protect her especially from Tanya, she hated that girl, and for no good reason. I couldn't get there in time when Tanya attacked the young girl while she was asleep. I never saw the young girl again.

The woman known as Claire leaves the room after ruining it. I can sense Tanya laughing at me from a mile away, after all these unfortunate years spend here with her. I still find myself unable to forgive for in the slightest for all the pain she has caused me. "Stop laughing at me and come out of the shadows." I say coldly. She comes out of the mirror in a whimsical manor. Her face always contorted with anger, no wonder she scared the poor girl years ago.

"Ohh would you look at the wallpaper, aren't we being a bit rash about the choice of rose instead of daisies. I think daisies would really complement the pink bed sheets." She sees being here with me as if we were married and enjoying one another's company. She has referred to it several times as love going on after death, being that it is meant to be for us to be together forever. I see it as torment, all I want to go to the other side to be with my dear Isabella but Tanya has made that impossible. "Edward are you all right, you were getting kind of spacey?"

"I am fine Tanya. I am just not in the mood for your stupid jokes." I retort. I look around the room again, it appears like there may be someone living in it very soon. I take three steps back and look in the closet, young girl clothes. Is the girl who stayed here coming back? I open the window to get rid of the awful stench left from the paint."I think it is best if we go back into the shadows now Tanya." I say in a calm forced polite voice."

"Sure I can just belittle you there."She heads back through the vanity and I follow her but not before ripping a little of the horrendous wallpaper off the wall. I watch in the shadows and wait for something, anything to happen. Nothing happens, nothing changes. Claire has been getting more annoying lately though. She keeps pestering her husband about some sort of festival and then she goes on to talk about their granddaughter Bella. Claire keeps worrying about the room and whether or not Bella will like it. I listen intently to these conversations; this girl has the same name as my Isabella. My heart fills with sorrow and happiness to hear someone other than myself utter that name. I feel like it is real and she is right here beside me with her chocolate brown eyes opaque with so many things hidden.

I hide in the shadows as the day passes on. Tanya seems to be getting suspicious about my behaviour, but she has not said anything to me. She is actually leaving me alone for once, lucky me I bet I'll hear about it later. I hide in the attic for the next few days; I can't bear to remember the next couple of days. The day we were killed is coming up, hiding doesn't make it better. I can hear every voice from the attic; it appears the girl has arrived. Tanya appears in the attic in a foul mood a couple of hours later. She paces the floor.

"Would you please stop that, it is making me sick." I say. She stops, looks towards me and shoots daggers at me.

"I can do what I please Edward, you will not stop me again." She says in a flat monotonous voice.

"You don't sound like you are talking about pacing the floor, what is eating you?" I reply mildly curious.

"As if you don't all ready know, you have known the whole time, haven't you? I don't know how this is possible but you caused all of this and I will not be made a fool of for a second time." She screams at me! I haven't the slightest clue as to what she is talking about. I know she gets angry on every anniversary of our death but this is more excessive than usual. I stare at her while she balls up her fists and begins pacing again. I should just leave her and head to my room. "Where do you think you are going?" She says as I open the attic door.

"It is none of your business; I don't need to sit here with you while you throw a fit about this situation we are in that was caused by you entirely."

"You are not going down there tonight or ever." She grabs me and tries to drag me back up the stairs. I shrug her off easily and head down, she follows me. I reach the door and begin to open it. I look for Tanya following me but she is gone when I turn around, maybe she has finally learned some manners.

I head in the room and I hear a faint breathing and snoring sound as soon as I enter. I walk towards the bed to get a better look. This must be the Bella; Claire and Wes have been talking about. I can't see her though; her face is covered by the blankets. I do something incredibly ungentle men like and pull the blanket just slightly so I can see her face. I still can't see her face because of her hair. She begins to stir and then she sits up, oh god she is awake, shit. I need to move right now. I am frozen to my place though. I can't believe what I am seeing, this can't be true my Isabella is sitting right there in the flesh, she is alive and just as beautiful as ever. She stares at me in shock her eyes become saucers. Does she not remember me, all the emotion in the room and electricity cause tears to stream down my face. I hold my arm out to touch her cheek and feel its warmth again. She sits there still in shock. Before I can touch her cheek Tanya shrieks a tormenting scream from inside the mirror, she must have been watching me this whole time. I run towards and into the mirror. She disappears from my grasp, if she harms my Isabella again so help me. I will find a way to drag her to hell, where she belongs. I hear Isabella scream. My knees buckle beneath me and I am glued to the floor with the guilt that I may have failed again. I run my hands through my hair and my breathing become erratic how can this be happening all over again.

I lay here until I here Claire and Wes return. I hide in the shadows to see if she is still with them, she is. Thank god she is ok. I go back to my...her room and I begin to devise a plan to protect and be with her in a way were she won't freak out. What do people do in this modern world to get to know another? I go over to her computer and look through the history of the web browser. She frequently visits a website called Facebook. I go to said website and I read that it is a way to connect with old friends, I sign up and request to be friends with her. All this seems ridiculous but I need her to know that I am real and here for her.

"I suppose I'll have to add the force of gravity to my list of enemies."  
>― Lemony Snicket, <em>The Penultimate Peril<em>

Bella's POV

I awaken refreshed and for once nothing I dreamed about caused me to wake up in a panicked, sweating state. Maybe because I only had one dream that kept playing over and over again in an infinite loop. This dream I am afraid to admit out loud, only because it sounds completely outlandish. It was about Edward Masen. Why on earth am I dreaming about him? He doesn't even exist; maybe that is the magic of it. The dream was wonderful with his green eyes and bronze hair, Edward caressing my face with kisses as he and I lay in a lush forest filled with lilacs and vines covering the trees surrounding us. Before the dream gets anywhere it ends and starts again leaving me frustrated. Oh how I would love to dream it going further. I wish I could go back to bed and dream it again but I can hear Claire hollering for me to get ready.

I hope out of bed and almost fall over; curses to the person who decided it would be funny to let me come into this world extremely uncoordinated, I am certainly not laughing. I rub the tender spot on my knee; it is going to be tough to walk around today. I grab the first none pink thing I see and get dressed. I hope down the stairs grab a pack of pop-tarts and head into the car where Claire is waiting impatiently. Claire shakes her head at me and begins to drive to Forks. We head to the town hall building and we get out and head inside.

The outside of the building is much more run down than the inside. The inside is brand new and looks overly official. We walk down a hallway and head into a room. Emmett is standing around and as soon as we enter he begins to paint quickly. Claire walks quickly over to where he is painting and begins to inspect it. She talks to Emmett in a stern voice takes the brush from him and shows him how she wants it painted. I stand there waiting for her to tell me what I am supposed to do.

"Isabella, could you come over here please." She says in frustration. I walk over and she hands me the paint brush that Emmett was painting with."I would like it if you could paint this please. Emmett I would like you to glue leaves on the plastic trees over there." Emmett grumbles and agrees. Claire walks out of the room but not before she warns Emmett not to ruin the decorations for the Fall Festival. I walk over to Emmett to apologize on behalf of my grandmother; he doesn't seem like such a bad guy, very huge but not a bad person.

"Look I am sorry about my grandmother she can be really over the top sometimes." He grins widely and sticks out his hand for me to shake. I shake it.

"Hey Isabella, my name is Emmett nice to meet you and don't worry about your grandmother being mean to me I have pissed her off enough in the past to deserve it." He laughs and goes back to gluing leaves.

"What did you do?" I ask mildly curious.

"Oh, you know stupid teenage stuff. Like last year I rigged a float in the parade to shoot nasty smelling foam everywhere." He says while snickering. I laugh along with him.

"Did you hit my grandma with some?"

"Yeah, and It was all over the mayor and the rest of the council." Emmett is so cool; he is like a baby inside a grown man's body.

"I wish I could have seen their faces."

"You you hate you grandmother or something?" I process this question carefully.

"I don't hate her; I don't even really know her. But I think she needs to loosen up a bit she is always talking trash behind people's backs and not look at herself for fault. She is family so I am obligated to like her and without her I would be an orphan." The room gets awkwardly silent after my little rant. I go on painting silently but I just can't take the silence anymore. "Are you planning on pranking again this year?" His face lights up again.

"I wish but your grandmother and my mother are watching me like a hawk."

"Then why would you have to do this if being here would cause the problem in the first place?" He grabs a leaf and glues it on upside down and does that to a couple more leaves.

"I don't know, I think is kind of fun, it gets all kinds of popularity as school. I even got this one chick, her name is Rosalie. She is so amazing, I didn't think she would like bad guys but she is so in love with me."

"Aww, that is so sweet I hope things work out for you." I go back to painting silently.

"You know what you are a pretty cool chick, I have always wanted a sister or a master of evil to help me with my awesome pranks, how would you like to help me set up a elaborate over the top prank. Your grandmother trusts you to keep me from doing this so we could totally pull this shit off man.

"I am so in what on earth do you have in mind that will top last year's?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Sorry for taking for ever with the update, there is not a real excuse for it other than writers block and school. One of those isn't a real excuse. I have the whole week off so I am hoping I can give you two this week. **

Chapter 5

"I still own my heart, which I know because it hurts so much."  
>― Emilie Autumn<p>

Edwards POV

I guess that plan didn't work out. She is completely freaked out by me and why shouldn't she be, I am a monster, I do not exist. I do not deserve such a life with her, I had my chance and I screwed it up, being offer a second and it will only dangle in my face and taunt me. I sit in the attic sulking again, just like I have for the majority of this ghostly existence. Tanya hasn't been back in a while; she is probably devising some other plan. Well she will not get away with it. I feel weighed down with guilt, everything hurt ten times more when you dead, so I hear and now feel. We ghosts become compulsive, angry, and obsessed but some don't always, some are just deeply depressed but don't become hell bent on killing every living human and animal around us. I would say I am somewhere in the middle but I haven't killed anyone.

The dark goes on like an endless shadow when I am cowering in the attic feeling sorry for myself. Am I really that pathetic? To feel bad about myself when I am the one who was put in this predicament because I acted so recklessly.

"Yes, yes you are really that pathetic!" Tanya chides. She comes from the mirror in the attic and stand in front of me standing like she is all high and mighty, like she has accomplished something of value. I give her a disgusted glare and stand up, to tower over her and show her who really has the power.

"What do you want Tanya."I say as I step around her to get away from the hands she has used to choke me plenty of times, when I begin to argue with her. She walks around me and then closer to me again, like she is sizing me up or something. It is the same old dance we do, I am always sick of her presence and she is always intruding mine.

"I am just making sure that you are behaving the way I'd expect you to. You better be on your best behaviour. You belong to me remember that." She pokes me in the chest.

"Firstly since when are you the boss of me and secondly I want you to go back through that mirror and never come out again, this time I have had with you. I grab her and shove her back in the mirror and smash it into a million pieces. This will only get rid of her temporarily, unfortunately. The mirror will return back to normal in a week, I need to find a permanent way to get rid of her. I pace the attic floor again and run my hand through my hair and pinch the bridge of my nose.

I go down stairs into Isabella's room and try and compose myself after the tiff Tanya has started. I creep along the doorways just in case she awakens. This is the second time I have been in here while she is sleeping; I am such a disgusting monster. Sneaking in a young woman's room and watching her sleep, that isn't vulgar at all. I can't help myself though, I died with these intense feelings of love towards a girl who in every way is exactly like this girl who is peacefully sleeping. She begins to mumble incoherent things in her sleep, I chuckle such a silly beautiful girl. I look out one of the windows and see the sun hanging on the horizon, another night gone by so quickly. I feel saddened by the thought of leaving her but it is clear that she and I are not on the same path. I am not supposed to exist. I walk over to the door and begin my agonized trek up the stairs.

"Edward!" I turn back into the room in shock, did she wake up without me noticing. I begin to panic and book it up the stairs. If my heart was real it would be racing erratically. I wait a couple of minutes. There is no screaming coming from her room and I haven't heard a single footstep either? Maybe she was just sleep talking. But why would she be saying my name in her sleep.

I go back to sulking once again. I sit in trance thinking about the possibility of being human again. Impossible entirely but hey I can dream right. I just have to keep the dreams under control. I can do that I have been controlling myself for years. I hear a door slam loudly. I run towards the attic door and open it to hear were the noise came from. I hear another door slam and an engine start. I peer out the attic window and see Isabella and Claire driving off. I watch the car go on and on until it disappears from view.

I lay down on the floor, heavy breathing slowly approaches me. I ignore it and continue to recluse into my own world.

"Did you really think breaking the mirror would get rid of me? "Tanya hisses. I roll on my side away from her.

"No, I didn`t think it would get rid of you forever, but longer than this. How did you get back here so quickly?"

"Oh, I have my ways, none of which I am going to tell you. Now get up, I am going to make you some breakfast." She kicks me in the back and I groan in response. I get up and confusedly follow her to the kitchen. She points to a seat at the island for me to sit on. I oblige and sit because I am not entirely sure of her motives. She rummages around in the kitchen and grabs a loaf of bread and some eggs from the fridge.

"You do realize that none of us can eat, it would be pointless and a waste to make anything." She shrugs her shoulders and continues rummaging around. "Tanya." I stand up and grab her shoulders to stop her. "Why are you doing this, let's just go back to the attic, this is just unnecessary."

"I know I am no good at cooking Edward but I wanted to do this just for us." Damn it, she must be going through the "I've forgotten I am dead again phase". I hate when this happens, she becomes very agitated, when I try and tell her otherwise. I guess I better just play along. I let go of her and go back to my seat and wait for breakfast.

"So what are you making?"

"Um, well I was thinking of making some toast. Yes I will be making some toast." I watch her carefully as she grabs the bread and puts some slices on a plate and places it in front of me. "I have changed my mind; we will be having raw toast." She grabs she puts another plate with bread on it in front of her and sits down beside me. I try and stifle a laugh as she begins to eat the "toast."

"Really Tanya, raw toast?"

"Yeah, raw toast, wait you can eat raw toast right?" She looks at me in all seriousness as she says this. I burst out laughing, this is just too much. I feel the plate as it goes through my head and crashes against the wall. "You think you are fucking funny don't you. I try and I am civil in this marriage and all you can do is act like a belligerent jerk." Oh great now the normal Tanya is back, just what I always wanted. I get up from the chair and try to calm her down, even if that means I have to apologise to her. I hear the front door open and shut and I hear the voice I hoped would not be returning this early in the day. Oh, looks like my prey is back for another lesson!"

I don't know when/I don't know how/But I know something's starting right now/Watch and you'll see/Someday I'll be/Part of your world. –Little Mermaid

Bella's Pov

This whole day has gone by so slow; finally Claire comes back and hands me the keys to her car so I can go home. She tells me she will get Wes to get her later. I say a quick goodbye to Emmett and wish him the best, he groans when he realizes I am leaving and my grandmother decides to yell at him some more. I quickly leave before Claire decides that I should stay for a little while longer. I hop into her little compact car and try to navigate my way back to the house. After a few tries I finally see the house in the distant, I pull up in the drive-way grab my stuff and unlock the door.

I walk in the house humming a favourite song of mine; I stop midway up the stairs because I hear two people arguing. I freeze on the steps because there should not be anyone in the house. The voices get louder and louder, I hear that same scream I heard in my room a couple of nights ago. My heart races and my palms become sweaty but my legs are taking me to the direction of the voices. Maybe it is all in my head, I say to myself as I walk towards the dining room. Bated breath and fists clenched tightly on either side. The voices are not in the dining room so I head to the logically best place to look next, the kitchen. I push the door open and I see them, but they appear completely real and human this time.

There isn't a way to describe the difference of their appearance from last time. They no longer look like billowy coloured shadowy figures, they look like anyone off of the street. Edward looks just like I have imagined him in my dreams, those stupid dreams. They immediately stop arguing when I enter the room. I stare bewildered like last time and they both disappear when I look away and look back again. I walk to the spot where he was standing and I can feel the energy left behind. A very angry and heavy feeling is left in the room. It makes me feel like I am being dragged down by lead weights. I stand in the room waiting for them to come back or something to happen, nothing does. I give up and grab an apple from the table and go sit in the living room.

I flip through the channels as I eat my apple. I look around the room unable to become completely comfortable in it. I know one thing for sure; people cannot just vanish into thin air, I run up the stairs to my room and grab my laptop, I need to find out everything about what is going on. I begin with a simple Google search, I type ghosts in slowly, the air drifts out of the room with every letter, and I can feel my chest tightening with every breath. I gently press enter. I fear they can see everything I am doing right now and will try to stop me. Most of the stuff makes sense but I now fear for my life, the way the blonde one looks at me, I know she is something more than just a harmless ghosts in fact I believe they may both be something more powerful and dangerous.

I search again, this time for answers on how to get rid of ghosts. There are so many different ways and then there is something that tells you how to contact them, curiously I click that link and it leads me to a store. They are selling various kinds of equipment and then I spot it an Ouija board. Even I know that is not a good idea. I am back to square one. I close my laptop and a freezing breath caresses my neck. I turn around and there is nothing there, not that I thought there would be. I tighten my fists up and stand up and face the area where I felt the cold air from. I thickly swallow the bile that is rising in my throat and decide to face my fear, for I do not fear Edward but the other one, she is out to get me that I am sure.

"What do you want from me?" I shout. I feel it vibrate off the stairs and off the rest of the house. No response though. I decide to threaten them.

"I will get rid of you if you don't answer me this time, this is the last straw." I look around hoping my bluff seem obvious. I would not know the first thing on how to get rid of them. I feel it before I see it. The floor boards creak and groan and they feel like they are alive. I see him come around from behind the stair case. He moves sluggish and with weight. Not ghost like at all. If I hadn't seen him before I would think he was human. He holds his hands up in a defensive position, as if I am the one could hurt him and not the other way around.

He comes closer and closer until I can feel his icy breath and ice that surrounds the room with his presence. I stare into his eyes unable to say anything. There is a great deal of pain in them still but something has changed in them, they almost like hopefully underneath it all. I feel so embarrassed staring at him; I take a step back to get my head in check.

"Isabella, you are not really going to do this to me are you?" he says in the most somber voice. I take another step back shocked by his very presence my eyes must be about to come out of their sockets. He takes another step forward to close the space between us. "Well are you?" I open my mouth but nothing comes out so I just shake my head side to side. "I had a feeling you wouldn't." He smiles at me and walks away.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Bella POV

_**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight**_

"_**Don't you think it's better to be extremely happy for a short while, even if you lose it, than to be just okay for your whole life?"  
>― <strong>__**Audrey Niffenegger**__**, **__**The Time Traveler's Wife**_

"Wait, Edward, please come back. I want answers or else my previous answer to your question will be revoked. I will find a way to get rid of you, I don't want to but you have given me no choice, if I don't get answers." He turns around to face me. He doesn't say a word but heads up stairs. I quickly speed walk to catch up to him and clumsy I, fall up the stairs. He runs back towards me and a look of shock crosses his face. I get up quickly as he descends down the stairs. He grabs my arms and looks me over gingerly, I immediate jolt back from the icy touch. He lowers his head, I have clearly offended him. "Look I am fine let's go talk in my room, ok. I tilt his chin back up to face me."

"Are you sure you are alright, there could be internal damage."

"I am fine, maybe a bruise on my knee but I am fine, why are you so concerned?"

"...Um..." He lowers his head again; he looks as if he could shatter into a million pieces, any second now. He seems to regain his composure, as he looks me in the eye again. "I died falling on these very stairs." My eyes widen and before I go to reply he moves back up the stairs and towards my room. I hastily, but cautiously follow him. I get to the room and close the door behind me. Edward is sitting on my bed. He looks like a lost little boy sitting there. So different from how he usually looks. I stand by the door waiting for him to do anything to break the now awkward silence. He motions for me to join him on the bed. I walk over slowly and sit down beside him. I then go back to waiting patiently. "So, you know what I am then." I turn my head to face him. I gaze at his eyes; they are waiting for my response.

"I believe you to be a ghost, if that is what you mean?"

"Yeah, that is essentially what I mean. I am dead and now stuck here in an in-between state. Or as a ghost as you seem to call me." He chuckles a bit at the word ghost. We sit there again for a couple of minutes in silence until I come up with the proper wording for my next question.

"Do you want my help or something; I don't know much about ghosts but I could do some research and help you get to where you need to be, or something?"

"I don't think that would be possible anymore. I have become too attached to this world to be able to leave it." He says this with such a longing it brings tears to the brim of my eyes.

"Why don't you want to leave it?"

"It is a long story, really. I can't tell you though."

"Well that is very helpful." I shrug. He turns to me shocked.

"Isabella, it is not how I intended my words to come across. There isn't much time that I am aloud to be here before I go back to being stuck in the attic. We ghosts only have so much power and being here right now talking to you uses it and I am about to run out."

"Oh, I am sorry for suggesting that it was something else. It really isn't my place to prod, anyway." I look down at my lap in shame for bugging him. He lifts my chin up to face him. He is smiling.

"You were always such a silly girl, a hundred questions a minute. If you have any last quick questions you better ask, I can feel myself separating." How does he know that I ask a lot of questions? I don't really care, it doesn't matter. One last question, what could I ask him? Wait I know the perfect one. I should ask him about that blond who really hates me. I get that ghosts don't like humans but she really seems to have something against me.

"Who is the other ghost and why is she so angry." Edward looks at me with a pained expression, closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. While reopening his eyes he grabs my shoulders. I shudder under his cold touch but don't flinch away this time.

"Her name is Tanya and I swear on everything that I will not let her harm you, please don't be scared of her." I nod at him in understanding. "Look, I have to leave you now but could you promise me something." I nod my head.

"I'll promise you anything you'd like."

"Just be careful, and try to stay safe."

"That is kind of an odd request but ok then."

"Isabella, who and what are you talking about?" I turn around and Claire is standing in my door way. I didn't hear her enter. I look back in the direction where Edward is and he is gone, just like he said he would be.

"I was talking out loud about a text I got earlier." Yeah that is a good excuse except I don't have my phone anywhere near me.

"Well, anyway. I just wanted to tell you that tomorrow we are going into Chicago to do some back to school shopping. School starts on Monday. Supper will be ready in an hour or so, I expect you to be down stairs in forty five minutes." Claire leaves the room without mention of me talking to myself. I sigh in relief; I don't want her to think I am crazy. That relief is short lived when I realize I have to go shopping. If there is one thing I would rather never ever do, in-fact I would rather jump of a high cliff into an ocean, than go shopping period.

I lay on my bed completely distressed and happy. It sounds completely crazy when I think about it to myself but it is real and something feels right about it. My life has never felt so complete and normal until today. At the same time though, it can't happen nothing that has happened today is possible. The logical person inside of me is telling me that my head is not screwed on properly and I am delusion. My heart flutters for a person that does not exist. The realization of those last words makes my heart ache for a way to make it real. I can't lie here forever; I get up off my bed and make my way downstairs for dinner. I don't particularly feel like eating though.

"Could you set the table dear?" Claire hollers from the kitchen.

"Yes, I'll get on it." I head to the kitchen and pull out the dishes from the china cabinet. I begin placing the plates down and Wes comes in behind me with the cutlery.

"So, how was painting today?" Wes says as he is placing cups. I head into the kitchen to grab some napkins and return to place them.

"It was fun I guess Emmett is a nice guy." I reply.

"Do I sense that you have a crush on this guy?" he pokes me in the ribs with his elbow. I walk into the kitchen again without responding and grab one of the serving dishes and head back into the dining room. "I'll take your silence as a yes, Isabella."

"A yes to what, dear?"

"She has a little crush on the McCarty boy." The silverware from Claire's placement clanks loudly against the silverware as she lets it fall. I stop eating and look up at Claire.

"You, have a what?" She points her finger at me. "You stay away from that little wilder-beast, or so help you god."

"I never said I liked him, I don't he is not my type no one in that town is my type." I shout. Claire looks at me like I just grew two heads. She opens her mouth and starts to say something but then goes back to being silent. "Just leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with him; you are blowing this way out of proportion." I get up from the table scraping my chair forcefully, run up stairs and into my room slamming the door behind me. Childish I know but I just can't stand it when people start something without hearing the other side of things. I have enough problems as it is. I contemplate taking a shower or just falling asleep in my clothes to pissed, to change into my pyjamas. I figure the shower will calm me down some so I choose that option. Once finished my shower I change into my pyjamas and lay on my bed with my laptop.

I wish I knew when I would see him again. It seems that is how it will always be a come and go type thing. It isn't really anything he isn't real and you can't not possibly have feelings for him, my subconscious tells me. I refuse to listen, these dreams I have had, they are so real to me and they contain myself and him together and I know in my heart that I need him for some reason. My subconscious chides at me like I am child, "tut, tut, tut, you're such a stupid child", it tells me. I'll refuse to listen and prove that I am right.

I think about the conversation with Edward. It was so cryptic. I am not sure I understand much of what he said. My mind keeps going back to what he said about being stuck in the attic. I wonder if he meant this attic, if so I should check the attic to see if he is there. Curiosity gets the best of me and I am up off of the bed and heading down the hallway towards the door to the attic. I open the doors; a sweet musty smell fills my nostrils. I begin my trek up the unfinished molding stairs. These stairs groan under my weight and look as if they aren't made of wood anymore but made of packed rotten dirt. I reach the other door at the top of the stairs and grab the glass knob and twist, nothing happens. It appears that is it locked.

I sit on the top step frustrated, here I thought it would be simple and I could see him again but of course things are always difficult. I look back at the door, it looks rotten as well, I think about kicking it in. I feel excited by the new found idea and stand up to further examine the door. The iron lock is black and brittle sounding when I tap it. The wood around it is cracked slightly. I think about going down the kitchen and grabbing a small knife to pry the door open. No Claire is probably still in there; I guess slamming my shoulder into it would be my only option right now. I brace myself about half way up against the door near the lock and using the steps as leverage slam as hard as I can into the door. It groans and the lock makes a hollow sound. I jiggle the lock and I can feel it giving way a bit, not enough to open the door yet. I try again this time turn the knob while I slam my shoulder into the door it creaks and I feel it moving, I continue to push as hard as I can and voilàit opens.

I fall over and hit the floor, it is all dirty and I hack on the dusty choking me. I pick myself off of the floor wiping the dirt and dusty off my pants. This place is very odd. There a floor on this attic instead of just support beams. Old furniture scattered everywhere but no Edward. I look around for a light, there isn't one, and it is getting dark so I scamper downstairs to grab my cell phone to use as a flash light. When I come back the door is closed again, I tug on the knob and it opens with limited force. Thank god I don't think my shoulder could take another body-slam. Using my phone as a flashlight I take a closer look around, a cloth draped over something stands in the corner. I immediately walk over to it and pull off the cloth. It is a long very old style full body length mirror. It has the same eerie look to it that the one in my room has. I run my fingers along the gold trim edge; it is very cold to the touch, sending shivers along my whole body. I see his reflection in the mirror and I turn around to his angered gaze.

"You should not be up here it is not safe and what did you just promise me you would do, downstairs." I am at a loss for words, I just stare at him. "Isabella, you need to learn to listen to me."

"Are you mad at me? I just need to see you." He lets out a breath he appeared to be holding and gives me a pained expression. One of many I have noticed. He always looks like he is in pain.

"Of course I am not mad at you; I just think you need to concern yourself with your own safety instead of doing dangerous stuff like coming into the attic."

"Is it really that dangerous?"

"Yes. This is where we are most powerful, for some reason, that and your bedroom but mostly in the attic."

"Oh, well you didn't tell me that." He gives me a sideways glance.

"It was kind of implied with the lock on the door."

"Figures," I look around the room some more. "If you are here, shouldn't Tanya be here as well."

"Not necessarily, I don't know where she is though. So you should go in case she comes back. I can only protect you so much. Please meet me half way and stop doing dangerous stuff." I sulk a little but he is right I really don't want to be here if she shows up. I walk forward and my right foot catches something I begin falling backward. I brace myself for the crash against the floor and on the mirror but one never comes. I open my eyes and it is completely black around me. I can hear faint shouts in the background but I can't move.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"_**Love who you love while you have them. That's all you can do. Let them go when you must. If you know how to love, you'll never run out."**_  
>― <strong>Ann Brashares<strong>**, **_**My Name Is Memory**_

**Bella's POV**

There is a faint thrumming surrounding me, my eyes lay heavy unable to open fully. There are many voice but none of which I recognize. They call to me in panic. Has it been hours since I was last aware? It feels like more. Nothing to challenge or pin point how much time has passed. The thrumming gets increasingly louder as the time passes. The question of being dead passes through my mind. More hours... or maybe even days pass. I feel my body floating like a feather, everything lightens, and I feel as if I could reach out and touch the blinding hot light. I try; my hand is front of me stretching towards it. My fingers caress the light, it shatters and once again everything turns black but there is a difference this time my eyes are completely open.

I take a deep breath in, the taste and smell of lemon and honey fills my nostrils and tickles my taste-buds. The lemon isn't as over-powering as that crap Claire cleaned with, and this smell is distinctly different from the musty stench that pervaded every corner of the attic. It is pleasant and homely. I must not be up in the attic or even in that house anymore. I almost feel like making a Wizard of Oz joke about not being in Kansas anymore. As I think more about my surroundings I sense the rest of my body awaking. My muscles feel heavy from lack of use.

My body flies up from the laying position I was in. I finally realize fully, consciously, this smell isn't right and when I look around I am not in an attic at all. Beneath me is a firm yet soft bed; along the walls is a faint pattern. I slowly begin to realize that this is not my room at all, where the hell, am I? None of this furniture belongs to me. My clothing has vanished and I am laying in an older-style nightgown, I would not normally be caught dead in. My heart begins to pick up speed and into a frantic rhythm. I entwine my hands together and cover my face with them, to keep from screaming. I feel a realization dawning on me. I should have gone crashing against the mirror not through it, this cannot be happening, this is impossible. I must have gone mad or something. There has to be a logical explanation. The door of the bedroom swings open and two women who look like they are dressed like the characters of "Anne of Green Gables" come rushing in.

"Isabella lay your head back down this instant you could lose consciousness again." I stare at her confused. The other woman grabs my arm forcefully and pulls be back down to a lying position, she then tightens the covers to the point of barely being able to breathe. I try to open my mouth but before I can protest this woman gives me a pointed look.

"You took quite a tumble today; I thought we may just loose you, so you need to get some sleep. I do not want to see you trying to get out of this bed again, until the doctor oks it." The other woman barks at me. I nod my head and they leave the room. I try to go back to sleep but my body feels like a stripped live wire. I get bored quickly and I can't for the life of me tell what time it is, how long I have been in here, or how long since those women were here. I contemplate trying to get up again, I push against the sheets holding my down, and they won't budge. I am either really weak or they are just that tightly wound around me. After a while sleep once again takes over me. It is the beginning of twilight when I re-awaken.

I am awake once again. I hear a tapping noise coming from outside my window. Pushing the sheet aside with all my might they come loose enough to wiggle out and investigate the tapping noise. When I stand on my feet with all my weight I feel light headed and I struggle to move towards the window. At last I reach the window and pull back the curtain, like ripping off a band-aid, quickly. I stand bewildered as I look out the window. Edward is crouched in a tree plucking rocks at my window. I steady myself against the window pane. It can't be him, can it? Have I really gone back to the time when Edward was human? If so, does that mean that I can change the past and help him! I don't care I am happy just to see him happy. I thrust open the window. I am greeted with a sideways smirk and another rock throng from his hand; it lands with a plunking sound on the floor beside me.

"I did not think you were going to wake up?" He climbs from the tree and slides through my window.

"How long have I been out?" I reply.

"On and off for three days."

"How are you so sure Edward?" His beautiful pale yet sun-kissed skin turns beet red.

"I may have climbed up to your window a few times." He steps back a bit. "But I swear I did not see anything that would hurt your reputation and I swear no one saw me climb up." He lowers his head in shame and shuffles his weight from one foot to the other several times. "I hope you are not angry with me. I just... I was worried about you and I know I should not be because I am supposed to be with her but I feel simply euphoric with you instead of the misery I feel with Tanya." He rambles on, his eyes plead at me for forgiveness. I should, just like any sane, rational, thinking human should be disgusted or embarrassed after hearing someone confess to watching them while they were asleep but for some strange reason I find that I do not feel like so. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

"I suppose that one can forgive another but if you are suppose to be with Tanya why don't you stalk her like a love sick fool?" I really don't get what I going on here. I oddly feel jealous of Tanya even if he is here with me, he is still with her.

"You know that I cannot stand the very thought of her let alone want to look at her. I get it, I am engaged I should be happy and elated at the very thought of touching her hand and kissing her in the park while everyone walks by but I don't want to be with her. Her stupid father just happens to be friends with my stupid father and now I have no choice." He raises his hands in defeat. "That is why I will join the war." My face scrunches up at his last words. War what war? I am getting more confused by the minute.

"What day is it Edward?" Now he looks at me confused and smirks at me.

"It is the thirtieth of June."

"No, no I mean what year?" The confusion and smile disappear into that fear and worried look I am so use to from him.

"Are you sure you are of sound mind Isabella. You should know what year it is did you forget after you hit your head?"

"I think so because I don't what year it is and I don't remember you telling me that you did not like Tanya. I can't seem to remember much of anything at the moment." He face turns into dread as I go on. "But please don't tell anyone."

"Why shouldn't I tell someone, I mean that..." He concentrates on a random spot on the wall as he thinks. His eyes look a little wetter than what I would consider normal. "Um what if it got worse or you went to sleep tonight and you didn't wake up." His eyes go wide. "What it would do to my heart to know of such a possibility and not prevent it. Isabella you have to stay with me, I can't relish the thought of not seeing you ever. And if it is thing I do I will find a way to marry you and not the wicked witch... I mean Tanya. I should not be calling her names, it is not like this is her plan or anything, hey maybe she is just as disgusted with me as I am with her." My heart melts a little at his confession, I don't even know him. Well I guess the person who I have somehow embodied does. I could love him too; it feels like there could be nothing else.

"Just please don't tell, I'll be fine. I know it." He lets out a sigh.

"For now I will not tell anyone but I will not make any promises about the future if you appear to get worse."


End file.
